#so glad you enjoyed what ive written so far

[pezhead]

Just read your fic instead of going to bed

I love it, and I will admit

I keep imagining Donnie being returned via Mikey’s portal, which leads to the rise crew entering the 2012 dimension

And I just imagined rise Donnie walking in first and like, “oh my word why is everything so dull and colorless”

I also imagine Draxum there

It would be hilarious if the Rise group found the lack of bright saturated colors everywhere more jarring than the fact that 2012 is 3D. They get there and wonder who turned the color off and how do they fix it ASAP.

Also, Draxum going to 2012 is a concept I never considered, and ohmigosh that would be amazing~

[bxtchycaprisun]

obstinate (4) | a. anderson

summary: you’re a new medic in the WLF base. you’re young, hardworking, and the thing that abby anderson hated the most, stubborn.

notes: fem!reader, medic!reader, protective!abby, soldier!abby, mentions of injuries, civil conversation (for once 😮), mutual pining, this might be my fav chapter i’ve written so far

taglist: @caitlinisfruity @shaemonyou @mattm1964 @vigelvictoria @liabadoobee @shady-lemur @sweet-lover-girl @sweet-cow-nectar @anxiouso @novadanversss @paleidiot @makepastanotwar13 @juneswonderlust @ratdungeon @elliesrealw1fe @feelsoseencantdream (striked text means i can’t tag u)

an: here it is folks, eat up

MDNI!!

abby’s head hung low as she was hauled to the infirmary.

the bullet that was currently lodged in her shoulder hurt like a bitch. there were beads of sweat adorning her forehead and collarbones, and her brows furrowed from the sharp sting in her arm. but that wasn’t what mattered at the moment. she could care less about the pain.

what she did care about was the fact that her patrol had almost been over, and she was going to enjoy her full day off tomorrow, when she was ambushed, and shot. she had spent the entire day blowing off some steam, and planned to get a well needed night of sleep before an important conversation tomorrow.

believe it or not, she was going to pay a visit to your doorstep that upcoming day. not to apologize, obviously, that wasn’t her style. instead to make a proposition.

but of course, the universe had other plans for her. instead, she felt herself slipping in and out of a pained consciousness as her fellow soldiers lifted her onto a stiff hospital bed.

a familiar hand brushed her face, a thumb pressed firmly against her cheekbone as another finger peeled her eyelid upward, shining a bright light into her pupil. as she squints up at the ceiling, eyes adjusting to the bright infirmary lights, she heard a small chuckle before her.

“christ, anderson,” you shake your head, quick fingers cutting away her t shirt with your fabric scissors. “you’re not looking too hot.”

abby groans, instantly recognizing your familiar voice and soft hands. of course it would be you to treat her. she must have some really damn bad karma.

“don’t-” she shakes her head weakly, voice small, “don’t even start.”

abby was fully conscious now, eyes blown wide and face red as you cleaned up the wound, prepping it for surgery. she watched you with shallow breathes, simply accepting your taunting. she knew she had it coming.

“what was that you said, yesterday?” you ask slowly, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you haven’t been hit on the field in over a year?”

“shut up,” abby says in a hiss, her face pinching as you sanitize the wound. her fingers grip the edge of the bed, knuckles whitening. you notice her pain, and mumble “m’sorry,” as you clean her up. as much as you wish you did, you really didn’t enjoy seeing her like this.

“don’t think.. don’t think this’ll mean i’ll change my mind ‘bout anything,” abby brings up a weak hand, pointing at you with narrowed eyes.

“course not,” you shake your head, biting back a smile. you couldn’t even be upset by her comment. you were stubborn, and so was she. the last thing you wanted to be was a hypocrite.

“listen um-” you bite the inside of your lip, “the bullets shattered.”

she hums frustratedly, “figures.”

“i’m gonna put you under general anesthesia,” you move swiftly, prepping her forearm for an IV as you call over mel to control her dosage.

“try not to kill me while i’m under, will ya?” she says with a frown, but her eyes crease as if she’s smiling.

you laugh quietly, glad to see she was the same old abby, even in her worst.

“another time,” was the last thing she heard before going under.

. . .

abby woke up with little feeling in her body. she didn’t know what time it was, but judging from the dimly lit halls of the infirmary, and quiet buzz of conversation just around then corner, she could tell it was night.

she sat up with a grunt, gripping her left shoulder and feeling around at the intricately wrapped bandages. her eyes travel around the room, landing on the small table beside her. she picked up an orange pill bottle, reading the label carefully.

it was vicodin.

her eyes widen a bit. either mel was feeling generous today, or you had gone out of your way to get her extra good opioids. she furrowed her brows at the thought of the latter.

her gaze lifts as she hears footsteps entering her mostly empty tent. you rub your eyes as you step into the room, and full glass of water in your hand.

you walk to her bedside, smiling tightly. “you’re awake.” you say softly. you place a hand on her uninjured shoulder, and push her back against the bed gently, ignoring her mumbling protests. “you shouldn’t be sitting up.”

you grab the bottle and open it, dumping a single pill onto your hand, whispering, “open”

she nods, accepting the pill you set on her tongue and taking a sip of the water. her voice is hoarse as she speaks. “i’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

you breath in sharply, “you’re talking.”

“no i mean..” she begins, but you cut her off.

“abby, you really should just rest.”

“i’m fine,” she insists, craning her neck forward as she goes to sit up again. you click your tongue, pushing her back down. “please?” she whispers.

you snap your mouth shut, eyeing her suspiciously. “you gonna apologize?”

she scoffs. “no.”

“alright,” you chuckle dryly, “then please just rest.”

“why would i apologize?” she snaps, titling her head. “you should thank me, y’know, for keeping you out of the serevena. i mean, if this is the state i’m in, i can’t imagine how you’d have ended up.”

you roll your eyes, scolding yourself for thinking she’d have been any different today. “thank you, abby” you whisper sarcastically, “for saving my ass, healing my shoulder, and caring for me as i recover.” you take a long pause for dramatic effect. “oh wait. that was me.”

abby opens her mouth to bite back, but looks down. “thank you.” she says quietly. “i did mean to say that sooner. thank you.”

you nod, smiling slightly. “just doin my job.”

abby can’t help it as she says, “you give vicodin to every patient as a part of said job?”

you clench your jaw, feeling exposed. “you’re a top soldier, abby.” you respond slowly, “of course you’re going to get the good stuff.”

she nods, a smile creeping on her lips at your obvious discomfort. “right.”

a familiar silence falls upon the room as you step back from the bed. she watches you with parted lips, looking as if her words are stuck in her throat. “i have.. i have a proposition for you.”

you nearly snort at her choice of words, and you look down at her with an amused smirk. “a proposition?”

she snickers weakly, “i know that sounds weird, but, i need you to hear me out.”

you nod, tensing up a bit at the seriousness of her voice. you didn’t want to begin guessing what this was about. “okay… i’m listening.”

“you want to be able to go on patrol, isn’t that right?” she begins slowly, her voice low.

you nod carefully, humming “that’s right.”

“but from what i’ve seen, i can tell you’re not ready for that, is that correct?”

you inhale with a frown. “that’s what you think, yes.”

she chuckles at your clever remark. “you heard what isaac told the both of us. if you don’t get an okay from me, you can’t patrol.” she says with a grin.

you feel your face growing a bit hot. “what’re you doing abby? you just saying that to rub it in? trust me, you made your point pretty clear when you practically tackled me.”

tackled wasn’t exactly the word you used for it in your head, but it was safer to say than the alternative.

when she pressed you against a wall. when she held you to the ground. when you could practically feel her lips against your neck as she whispered to you. yeah no. tackled it is.

“i’m not trying to prove a point,” she hums, sitting up a bit once again. when you open your mouth to order her to lay back, she hushes you with a hand in your face. “don’t.”

you purse your lips and step back, giving up as she leans forward, large hand on her knee. “you couldn’t fight me off last night.”

your eyes narrow. “no abby. i couldn’t.” you throw your hands up, and cross them over your chest. “but majority of scars aren’t built like y-you..” you gesture at her arms, but trail off, your internal monologue telling you to just stop talking.

“built like what?” her smile is now wide and beaming. her fingers clutch her knee, and you can see her muscles flex. real subtle abby.

“never mind,” you huff. “what i mean, abby, is that most of our enemies aren’t like you. they don’t have a fully equipped gym, high protein diet, or even a steady roof over their heads. just because i can’t handle you, doesn’t mean i can’t handle them.”

“can’t handle me, huh?” she smirks and you nearly boil over.

she didn’t know why she was doing this. she shouldn’t flirt with you right now. she needed to convince you, not fluster you. but seeing the red tint on your cheeks, she just couldn’t help it.

and for you, watching her lick her lips, toned stomach exposed as she sits in only a black sports bra, you became weak.

“stop that.” you say quickly, your lips pulled into a stern pout.

“stop what?” she cocks her head.

“you- you know what- just.” you groan. “just get to your point, anderson.”

“you only call me that when you’re trying to act mad at me.”

“i don’t need to act mad, i am mad.”

“sure you are,” she puts a pretend frown on, “so mad.”

“abby…” you say her name warningly. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it’s not working. get to your point.”

her smile softens a bit, and she sighs, humming your name. “you really won’t ever let me try to get along with you, will you?”

her questions catches you off guard a bit. you sit down on the edge of her firm bed, tucking your hair behind your ear. “that’s a two way street, abby.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean.. you don’t let me get along with you either.” you say with a small shrug, “i feel like every time we have a conversation, you always find something to get on me about. and we end up fighting.”

abby sighs. “well that’s because… you always give me a reason to be upset.”

“or… because you overreact about things.” you say simply.

normally, abby would argue further. but watching the way your expression remains calm as you speak makes her soft. you were trying, and maybe she could do the same.

“maybe i do.”

her sentence is short, and her voice is firm. a lot was said in just those few words. it was more than she’d ever been able to admit in the past.

you surprise yourself as you hear the next words leave your mouth. “and maybe i… was a little too hard on you when you talked to isaac. i… didn’t mean what i said in the cafeteria.. about.. you thinking your better then everyone else.”

“i don’t.. think that.” she shakes her head with a grin, “only that i’m better than you.” her voice is playful, and it makes you crack a smile in return.

you look away from her, taking a deep breath as you listened to the whir of the fans in the tent. you could feel her eyes on you, and it makes your face hot.

you were still angry at her. you still couldn’t give her the satisfaction of thinking she was let off the hook.

she may have been charming, and her voice may be smooth, and she may make you nervous. and it was hard to ignore the fight in your mind as you look at her face, struggling to decide whether to memorize every freckle on her skin or just stare at her lips.

but she jeopardized your role in the WLF. she humiliated you, and she underestimated you, and she made you so desperately miss the girl you had first met.

she was acting awfully like that girl right now.

she wasn’t yelling at you, she was smiling at you. it made your stomach hurt.

you take a deep breath, finally meeting her eyes. “you… had a proposition,” you begin, “what was it?”

a part of you prayed that she would say something that made you mad again. it was easier that way. she was so much easier to be mad at when she wasn’t staring at you like she never meant a thing she did.

abby smiles. “you want to go on patrols, you have to train with me.”

you inhale from your nose, shaking your head. “abby, no.”

she whispers your name, followed by a “yes.”

“i’ll help you learn to shoot. i’ll help you learn to fight. i’ll make sure you can protect yourself.”

you frown, lowering your head. you couldn’t do this. you couldn’t be around her like this. she made you crazy. she made you want something she couldn’t give you.

you practically scream in your mind, yelling to snap the hell out of it! the two of you are constantly bouncing from simple conversations to jumping for each others throats. if you wanted to keep your sanity, and your dignity, you needed to avoid.

“that’s not gonna happen, abby,” you shake your head.

she doesn’t look surprised, nor does she look disappointed. she was determined.

“you’re never gonna go on patrol if you don’t agree to this.” she states.

you exhale through your teeth, rolling your eyes. “you’re… impossible.”

she chuckles, leaning towards you. “i’m not,” she laughs, “it’s a simple request. then i’ll leave you alone forever. free reign on the field.”

“i don’t have time for that, abby,” you shake your head, “i work too much here in the infirmary. it’s not gonna happen.”

“that’s exactly why you need me,” her voice is almost pleading. “you’re going to go insane in here. how long have you been here, anyways?”

“what do you mean?”

“how long have you been working? you were here before i came in, and you’re still here.”

“i’m used to it.” you respond quickly.

“how long,” she pressed with a raised eyebrow.

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “it’s a 24 hour shift. i’m almost over.”

she watches you through her blond lashes, her eyes softening.

she had always been praised for her work in the WLF. she got so many special privileges, attention, and respect. her work was rewarded, and people looked up to her.

and then there as you.

worked to the bone. face sunken from lack of sleep, yet a smile still so beautiful. you never got the recognition you deserved. you never got the love you deserved.

but from the way she was looking at you alone, you felt more appreciated than ever before.

“you don’t deserve that,” her voice is soft and gentle.

you remain silent as you stare at each other.

“when’s the last time you left the base?”

“uh-” you pause for a moment, “since the patrol with you.”

she sighs, leaning back a bit as her tongue rolls on the inside of her cheek. “you’re gonna go crazy if you stay in here.”

“yeah,” you answer, “thanks to you.” you instantly frown at yourself. why was this all you knew? why couldn’t you be civil?

abby doesn’t flinch from your words, however, only smiles more.

“you need me.”

you instantly break eye contact as she says this, your cheeks warming up.

“i-,” you exhale quickly, “what- what does that mean?”

“i mean, you need me to help you. i promise you, if you just train with me for a little while, i’ll let you go on whatever patrol you want.”

you shake your head, looking down, but she presses on.

“please? i just- i need to see that.. that you’ll be okay out there.”

“i will be.” your voice is shaky, meeting her same level of desperation. “just let me go. you’ll see, abby, you’ll see.”

“i’m not going to take that kind of risk,” her voice is more stern, “not when you can prove that to me here, in the safety of the base.”

“i’m not doing that, abby, so you can just forget it,” you can’t hide the frustration in your voice.

“why are you so god damn stubborn?” she raises her voice and you widen your eyes.

“i’m a grown woman, abby,” your tone is low, “i don’t need your help. and i don’t need your approval, so you can just forget it. i’d rather stay here at the infirmary, and go crazy.”

abby’s jaw clenches, and she rolls her head back. “you- just let me.. please?”

“no, okay?” you stand up. “look… i’ve gotta get back to work.” you reach to grab your bag, preparing to leave.

abby’s voice is sharp, and almost mean as she calls out to you. “are you even happy?”

you look at her with raised eyebrows, completely dumbfounded. “what?”

“you heard me.”

you stare at her, mouth open slightly. all you did was work, struggle to fall asleep, and suppress your feelings. happiness wasn’t something on your mind. it didn’t seem achievable.

“that doesn’t even matter,” you turn around again, but her voice stops you. your back faces her as she speaks.

“you need me.” she says quietly.

you don’t turn around as you respond. “what.. what are we even talking about right now?”

your question was bold, but so was her statement. were you reading this wrong? her words made you feel so light headed.

“i think you know what i’m talking about,” she says, tone low and sultry. you swallow hard, trying to stop your body from shaking.

when you don’t respond, abby takes it as a rejection.

“i’m sorry- that was.. that was out of line- i just mean, i think getting out of this place will give you some peace of mind,” she sounds almost insecure, “you need it.”

you can’t risk turning back around, fear of her seeing your red face, or the way your legs squeeze together. why’d she have to take it back?

your response is slow and soft. “i’ll.. i’ll be fine, abby. you should rest.” and you leave her with that as you exit the room, not daring to breath until you were out of her eyesight.

. . .

to your ultimate despair, you didn’t see abby anderson for an entire week.

you didn’t return to her bedside until she was admitted. you didn’t see her in the cafeteria, even when you went during normal breakfast hours. you didn’t see her stop into the infirmary. you didn’t see her anywhere.

and you knew it was purposeful.

you had shut her down, turned her away. and she didn’t know how to accept it.

even when she tried to be nice, and understanding, and patient, you still wouldn’t agree to a thing.

she didn’t want to see you, or talk to you, or spy on you anymore. she knew if she did, she’d just start begging again. and she had to stop doing that.

so she did the only thing she knew how.

she avoided.

but for you, on the other hand. you didn’t even have the time to make sense of it.

with a weak total of 30 hours of sleep in the last week, and 3 consecutive 12 hour shifts the last few days, you were truly going out of your mind.

you were, once again, a walking corpse. you slept during the entire day in your dungeon of a room, and woke up in the night to slave away in the infirmary.

you rarely saw sunlight, rarely went outside for fresh air. you barely ate, or showered, or even spoke.

and ever since abby had asked you if you were happy, that’s all you craved. to feel happy.

you’re body ached with both the need of something different, and from the soreness of your neck.

you treated countless soldiers with minor injuries, beaming smiles on their faces as they cackles with their counterparts, sharing stories of their excitement out on the field.

your heart stang with jealousy.

one soldier mentioned how abby had found a way into an old record store, collecting dozens of practically untouched records and bringing them home to distribute based on who she knew liked the artists.

she kept the Siamese Dream album by The Smashing Pumpkins for herself.

that night you dreamed of listening to it with her.

you woke up at midnight, your shift only hours away. only this time, you didn’t plan on going to it.

your body was hot and your skin felt tingly as you emerged from the covers. your pajama shorts hung loosely by your hips, swallowed by the old t shirt on your shoulders. you ran your fingers through your hair, and let out a groan of frustration.

you wanted her. you needed her.

and you wanted out of this damn base.

one of those things, you knew a way to make happen.

you told yourself to turn around as your slippered feet padded down the halls of the base. you told yourself you decided that you wouldn’t do this. wouldn’t give in to her demands, and deal with your job in the infirmary.

but your head heart from your lack of vitamin d, and your joints ached from your lack of movement.

your frown was nearly cemented onto your face from your lack of abby.

abby.

which is why you shut down your doubt, and brought your shaking fist to her door, knocking gently.

she didn’t open at first, and you wait with a trembling figure, eyes wide and desperate. but eventually, you hear the lock click, and the door swings open.

“what do you-,” she begins as she scratches the back of her neck, but stops when she sees you before her, her hand dropping to her side.

she takes in your state. your hair is messy and wild. your eyes are glossy, and you smell like sleep and cinnamon. you part your puffy lips, and she feels weak in the knees as she watches you. she whispers your name, and you finally speak.

“i- i need you.”

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here? At The Violinist?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josefina Duran,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

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TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

Epilogue

[frogletscribe]

Until It Doesn’t Hurt

Chapter 12: Catch Me Now

Summary:

20 years since the RDA was pushed off of the moon of Pandora, they are back once more. The RDA thinks their only problem is the traitor Jake Sully and his family, but as it turns out, Jake wasn’t the only ‘problem’ left behind 20 years ago. 

Anthe was a child soldier, stolen from their home and forced to learn the ways of the humans, erasing any of their connections to the Na’vi from before. Finally free from the RDA’s hold after being trapped in cryosleep, they're about to make themselves everyone's problem.

---

Escape plans and chance encounters

_____________________________________________

Pairing: Aged Up!Neteyam X Nonbinary!Na'vi!OC (OC and Neteyam are both around 20)

Warnings: Mentions of Past Violence, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mild Claustrophobia, No Use of Y/N, Blood, Self-depreciation, Neglectful Parenting, Suggestive Themes, Mutual Pining, Hurt-Comfort, Found Family

WC: 5076 words. AO3 Link Here

A/N: I meant to get this up a couple days ago but ended up waiting till now because of the holidays. I think this is the longest chapter ive written so far. Things are picking up again, i hope people enjoy :)

{ } indicate speaking Na'vi

Masterlist

Previous Next

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Anthe wasn’t processing the scene before them. Spider was screaming, begging Quaritch to stop, to let the reef Na’vi they had bound go, but Anthe couldn’t focus. Frozen between the danger of stepping into the Na’vi clan's defense with Spider and the comfortable safety they had become accustomed to with the RDA. There was so much noise, shouting and crying, it was overwhelming.

“{Why are you doing this?! You are Na’vi!}” A young woman, maybe the clans Tsakarem, cried from her place in the sand, tear filled eyes boring into Anthe as they were startled out of their stupor. They couldn’t speak, barely breathing, a deer in headlights as they struggled to keep composed in front of the recoms. They should have expected this, been more prepared for what horrors the RDA was willing to enact for their own gain. Anthe had lived it, they should have known better. Now this clan, the Ta’unui, would pay the price for it.

A shot rang out, making Anthe flinch reflexively as a new wave of screaming started up again. Anthe turned, stilted, following Spider’s shocked face to the water behind them, the body of an Ilu floating lifelessly in the waves. A warning shot. Quaritch had shot it and not one of the Na’vi only because of Spider, Anthe knew it. He was only merciful because his would-be son begged for it. But if another shot rang out, someone would be dead, no matter what Anthe or Spider had to say about it.

Something snapped in them then, whatever comfort the recoms company gave them in the last months dissolving from their bones as they watched none of them show even the slightest hesitance or remorse. Spider was still screaming, his voice starting to go hoarse as he apologized to the Na’vi on their knees before them. Anthe stepped forward, sliding their rifle back onto their shoulder and kneeling before the crying girl, gently taking her kuru in a mock threat. Quaritch was still demanding Sully’s location from the clans Tsahik, Spider tugging at the man trying to pull him away. If any of the other recoms noticed Anthe’s gentle movements, they didn’t mention it.

“{I have no choice.}” Anthe whispered urgently, willing the girl to hear their intent. “{They hunt people I love. I am trying to slow them down.}”

 It was moments like these that Anthe was glad none of the recoms had ever taken to learning Na’vi. Quaritch had been trying, using it as a way to bond with Spider, but he was far from fluent and still struggled with understanding the language when spoken. Now, he was too busy trying to threaten the clans leaders for information rather than focus on whatever Anthe was whispering to the young woman. Anthe watched the Tsakarem collect herself somewhat, blue eyes scanning them for any sign of deceit before meeting Anthe’s gaze once more. 

“You make it real clear to him,” Quaritch growled at Spider, clearly frustrated by the lack of the Olo’eyktan’s cooperation. “he doesn’t give up Sully, we kill the Tsahik.” 

Anthe immediately tensed, ears pinning back and eyes darting quickly to the Tsahik being pushed into the sand by Lyle, gun pressed to her temple. The Tsakarem noticed, following their gaze, a panicked understanding crossing her features.

“{Protect your people.}” Anthe gritted out quietly, releasing her kuru as they stood.

“No. I’m not doin’ that.” Spider was arguing back at Quaritch. 

“That right?” Quaritch straightened, clearly not used to insubordination as he glared down at Spider.

“I’m not gonna be a part of this! These people don’t know anything!” 

Anthe’s rifle was back in their hands, moving themselves between the Tsakarem and the closest RDA soldier. The human’s would be the easiest to deal with, they thought, or at least significantly easier than the Recoms would be. Anthe was already cycling through the best way to do as much damage as possible to the soldiers and recoms while still protecting Spider, but nothing they thought of was likely to end with them making it out alive. 

“This is wrong!” Spider was still shouting at Quaritch, anger and pain twisting across his features. “What you’re doing here is wrong!” 

Anthe held their breath, watching Quaritch and the other recoms, silently waiting for a chance. They held their rifle just high enough to be level with the back of Lyle’s head where he crouched over the clans matriarch, ready to shoot him the second Quaritch gave the order to kill her. With any luck their trigger finger would be faster than his. For maybe half a second, Anthe hesitated, thinking of all the times Lyle had been good to them. Kind, even. But then they looked back at the Na’vi clan around them, the panic and fear, so evident on their faces, and how Lyle was so ready and willing to kill them all. For what? What was the point to any of this other than fulfilling the vendetta of a dead man?

“Burn the huts.” Quaritch ordered finally, stepping away from Spider as he did so, something like guilt briefly gracing the Colonel’s hard face. Anthe stopped, head whipping back to Spider. Quaritch was giving in to Spider again. Giving into whatever little worm the younger man had managed to wriggle into the Colonel’s brain. Mercy. Lyle stood with his typical grin, releasing the clan's matriarch as he turned towards the other soldiers.

“Light ‘em up!” And they did, torching the ancestral homes and belongings of the reef Na’vi as they were forced to watch on. But no one was dead.

“{I’m sorry! I didn’t know.}” Spider was trying to apologize to the villagers, visibly distressed. Anthe moved to him, catching him by the arm and pulling him close, away from Quaritch who was ordering a retreat back to the SeaDragon. They clung to each other, watching the village burn, as Anthe made a choice. They were going to escape tonight. No matter what.

As soon as everyone was boarded back onto the SeaDragon, Quaritch was arguing with Scorsby about the next plan of attack. Questioning the villages would take too long, the recoms already three days into Ardmore’s one week deadline to find the Sullys. With only two days left, the Colonel didn’t have the time to waste anymore. Anthe broke down and reassembled their rifle, double checking for hidden trackers, before Scorsby announced to the ship that they were going Tulkun hunting. If Anthe wasn’t already buzzing with tension before, then they certainly were now.

The ship was a flurry of motion, humans hustling quickly to their stations and prepping massive harpoon guns. Anthe wanted nothing more than to grab Spider and take off right then, but Quaritch was too close for them to go unnoticed.

“Yo, what's up with you Ant?” Lyle was leaning over to them, nudging them with his elbow.

“Nothing. Leave me alone.” Anthe did little to hide their hiss, too much adrenaline in their system to bother with manners.

“What? You’re not fucked up about that village are you? We didn’t even kill anybody!” Lyle was laughing, the sound of which made Anthe’s stomach turn.

“I’m worried about Spider.” They admitted after a moment, watching their friend across the room. 

“Ah, he’ll get over it. The Colonel will set him straight.” Lyle shrugged. Anthe didn’t respond, instead pushing off the wall they leaned against to join Spider on the command deck. Quaritch was still nearby, focused on listening to Scorsby give out orders to the rest of the crew, but Spider was looking out on the horizon, back towards the island they had just left. A plume of black smoke billowed from the beach, shrinking as the SeaDragon moved out to more open waters.

“{We don’t have much time.}” Anthe said to the young man quietly, watching the smoke trail into the air. “{We have to go.}” 

“{Wh- Now?}” Spider looked up at them, surprised. “{But I still have-}”

“{I know.}” Anthe cut him off, wary of eavesdropping. “{We will figure something out later.}” 

They chanced a look out at the rest of the command deck. Quaritch was still engrossed in his conversation with Scorsby and Garvin, the lead scientists they’d been introduced to on the SeaDragon. Lyle had moved from his place on the wall over towards where Prager and Mansk were poking at monitors. No one was paying attention to them.

“{But, we can’t-}” Spider was arguing still, sounding anxious. He had every reason to be. As soon as Quaritch realized Spider was no longer on the SeaDragon, there was no doubt in Anthe’s mind that the Colonel would lose his shit. He would be torn between continuing to hunt for the Sully’s or going after Spider, and Anthe would bet anything that he damn well might choose Spider.

“{We have to. Come on.}” They didn’t wait for Spider to follow, just moved as casually as they were able out of the command deck, headed towards the Ikran perch on the roof. Halfway down the final hall to where the Ikran were held, a hand grabbed and yanked lightly on their tail, stopping Anthe in their tracks. They turned, quickly scanning the hall for anyone else, but there was only Spider.

“{I can’t go.}” He said, letting go of his grip on Anthe’s appendage. His shoulders were tense as he stared up at Anthe, face determined.

“{No, Spider, we have to go. We have to find the Sully’s first, warn them!}” Anthe tried to reason.

“{Anthe, I still have a tracker in my mask! If I go, we lead these assholes straight to them!}” Spider was raising his voice, anxiety giving way to frustration.

“{Then we use it to lead them away. Quaritch will think we are headed to the Sully’s, he will follow us instead.}”  

“{And if he doesn’t?}” Spider argued back. He was not as convinced of the Colonel's feelings for him as Anthe was.

“{He will. You’re too important to him.}” As much as Anthe was trying to stay calm, they were running out of time before someone noticed the pair were gone. 

“{Then, what happens when they catch us? You think the RDA is just gonna let us get away with that?}” Spider continued to argue, stubbornly refusing to continue down the hall as Anthe began to pace back and forth, their tail swishing impatiently behind them. They were on high alert already, ears twitching at every little sound they picked up.

“{They won’t hurt you, Quaritch won’t let them.}” Anthe shook their head.

“{What about you? What happens to you?}”

“{That doesn’t matter.}”

“{For fucks sake, yes it does! I don’t want you to get hurt, Anthe! You’re my family!}” By now, with all the time they had spent together, hearing that should not have been surprising, but it still made Anthe stop.

“{And you are mine.}” Anthe knelt, trying to get more eye level with the human. “{Which is why I can’t let you stay here. I can’t leave you behind. Not again.}” Too many times now, Anthe had abandoned people they cared about. Their siblings at TAP, Neteyam and the rest of his family. They couldn’t keep leaving people behind.

“{You have to. You need to go find Jake and you need to warn him and the others.}” Spider said, taking their face in his small hands.

“{Not without you, too.}” Anthe couldn’t help the wobble to their voice, tears stinging the corners of their eyes. They didn’t want to leave him, they didn’t want to be alone again. But a part of them also knew that Spider was right. The tracker in his mask meant that Quaritch could find them easily, even if the chaos of a Tulkun hunt gained them an hour or two. The consequences of being caught were not worth the risk if the Colonel still had the chance to find the Sullys within Ardmore’s deadline, and Anthe would be as good as dead.

“{Anthe, they’re not gonna hurt me. You have to be the one that goes.}” Spider pulled their head to his shoulder, letting Anthe wrap their arms around him in a tight, desperate hug.

“{I can’t lose another brother.}” Anthe whispered, fear and guilt swirling in their chest, threatening to consume them entirely.

“{You won’t. I swear.}” Spider whispered into their hair, his own voice straining to stay level. “{You gotta go take care of everybody until I can get back, okay?}” He pulled away, Anthe reluctantly let him go.

“{Okay.}” They said finally, trying to wipe the tears from their eyes. Anthe stood slowly, readjusting their rifle on their back. 

“{No getting yourself killed either.}” Spider smiled, half joking in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

“{I’ll do my best.}” Anthe tried to smile back at least a little bit, before heading for the door to the upper decks. Leaving Spider behind.

Outside was just as, if not more chaotic than inside the SeaDragon. The human crew all making their final preparations before the SeaDragon headed out in earnest. Anthe made a point of moving purposefully, as if they had been given orders that needed completing immediately. The human crew scattered as they passed, steering clear of their determined stride. They were up the roof ladder in barely more than three strides, hauling themselves onto the Ikran perch deck with ease. They made their way to Ted, being careful not to disturb the other Ikran. For the most part, the recom’s mounts paid Anthe little mind, barely glancing up from where they nested. Ted chirped happily as they approached, rustling her leathery wings as she sat up.

“{Hello, paskalin.}” Anthe said softly, hand petting the creature's muzzle as they moved to her. She was still saddled from their most recent ride, and Anthe took a moment to check over what gear was there. Anthe’s uniform, stashed in a random pouch after they were given more ocean appropriate swimwear to wear instead of heavy camo pants; a handgun and holster that they quickly strapped to their side with an RDA issue combat knife, and an emergency first aid kit. Anthe pulled out the uniform, tossing the pants back on the deck but keeping the shirt with the first aid. 

They mounted quickly, not wanting to waste anymore time as they bonded to Ted. The mount shivered in anticipation beneath them, taking off with Anthe’s silent command, heading back towards the burning Ta’unui clan. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tenak was not keen on flying across the open ocean, wary of the deep sea creatures that liked to eat Ikran soaring over the water's surface, but there was only so far east he could go before he ran out of land. His search for Anthe had come up empty for too long, and he was starting to become more and more desperate. Luckily, he had managed to hear some news coming out of the clans nearest to the RDA’s original headquarters at Hell Gate. The Omatikaya, who had headed the war on humans 20 years ago now, had gone into hiding, but more importantly to Tenak, was that their former Olo’eyktan had apparently been an Avatar. If anyone was going to give Anthe some slack for their RDA upbringing, it would be someone like that. But the Olo’eyktan had left his clan with his family, and completely disappeared. Worse still, the man was being hunted by the RDA.

 Rumors from neighboring clans pointed towards the family traveling to the south western coast, to the Reef clans, where Tenak was headed now. At the very least he could question this Jake Sully character and potentially gain a new ally for the resistance in the process, but for now Tenak had to focus on flying. 

He went island to island, never staying long as he asked for any leads to Anthe or Jake Sully. Many clans were tight lipped at first, but relaxed when they realized he was not a part of the RDA. Still, nowhere he went said anything about having seen any forest people, only that the RDA’s demon ships were getting too close for comfort. 

Tenak and his Ikran were both exhausted, never stopping for more than a few hours to eat or sleep, only to get straight back into the search, even in the rain that pounded down around them now. Maybe that was why it was no surprise to him when he suddenly hit the water, ice cold as it jolted him back awake. Tenak sputtered, coughing as he scrambled for the surface, his Ikran shreeked above him, panicked. Tenak flailed for a moment, his already tired body struggling to keep him above the waves. He tried to turn, searching desperately for a rock or ledge for him to pull up onto as his Ikran circled above, crying for its rider. The mount was not trained to dive like the cliff clan’s Ikran were, it didn’t know what to do.

Exhaustion was quickly closing in, Tenaks limbs too heavy and waves too rough for him to be able to hold himself afloat. He cursed himself silently for being so stupid. He should have listened to Kala, and been more careful. His head slipped beneath the waves, his body too tired to move any longer. Now he was going to drown in the middle of the ocean and no one would ever know. Maybe that’s what happened to Anthe too, dead somewhere in the vastness of Pandora where no one could even find them. 

Distantly, Tenak thought he heard some kind of call or song beneath the waves. Is that what people meant when they said Eywa was calling to them before death? It was so dark and quiet beneath the waves, far calmer than the turbulence on the surface. Tenak could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness, struggling to keep his eyes open, but too tired to fight it. He was sinking into the dark, the last bubbles of his breath escaping as his chest seized with pain, desperate for air Tenak didn’t have. In the distance, some large shape was rapidly approaching. An Akula probably, he thought. At least that was a more interesting death than drowning. Then that call again, a long and melodious croon Tenak couldn’t quite place. He closed his eyes, letting himself give in to unconsciousness. 

“{What the hell were you thinking!?}” An unfamiliar man’s voice was yelling as Tenak began to rouse back to life.

“{He was going to drown! I was just trying to help!}” A second voice, younger by the sound of it.

“{WHat were you even doing out there?! You know you aren’t supposed to go out past the reef! Last time you went out there on your own, you nearly died!}”

“{But, Dad-}” The younger man sounded frustrated, clearly upset his father wouldn’t let him explain. Tenak opened his eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. He was on his back, inside of someone's home, a fire crackled softly nearby, warming Tenak’s still shivering body. The man and his son stood on the opposite side of the home, still arguing loudly.

“{No buts, Lo’ak! You know the rules! You will not so much as leave the beach again without my say so, do you hear me?}” They were forest Na’vi, Tenak realized belatedly as he watched the father scold his son, but more than that, both of them had extra fingers on their hands, like those of the sky people. 

“{... Yes sir…}” The son, Lo’ak deflated with a scowl, giving up on his defense as he stalked over to the fire. He looked like he couldn’t be much more than a teenager, maybe a year or two younger than Anthe was, and bore no marks of having completed his rights yet. The father had turned away, pinching his temples as if warding off a headache. The sound of movement from behind him made Tenak flinch as a young woman entered his field of vision. She made a surprised noise, shuffling quickly towards Lo’ak who perked up as well, ears swiveling to attention. The girl too, had four fingered hands. 

“{You’re awake.}” She said, and it took Tenak a moment to realise she was talking to him. He nodded, unsure of how else to respond. With some struggle, Tenak managed to push himself into a sitting position, his tired muscles screaming the whole way. By the time he was sat up, the father, as well as who was presumably the mother with a small girl and another young man, maybe a few years older than the other children had entered the room, all watching Tenak with a wariness.

“{You are the Sullys, then?}” He asked, somewhat sarcastically, sending several hands to knives as he did so. Tenak winced, holding his hands up in surrender.

“{I am sorry. I mean no harm. I’ve been traveling on my own for a while, your name has come up more than a few times.}”

“{Who are you, where did you come from, and why are you here?}” The father, Jake Sully, demanded. The man placed himself between Tenak and his family protectively, hand poised on the hilt of his knife in threat.

“{I came from the west, I’m looking for my sibling.}” 

“{The west is just open ocean.}” The mother said, more of a statement than a question.

“{If you go far enough, you’ll hit land again. Or you can do what I did and take a very long and inconvenient way around most of it.}” Tenak gestured an arch in the air with his hand.

“{You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?}” Jake Sully growled.

“{He is Tenak.}” The eldest boy answered before Tenak got the chance to speak, stepping between him and his father. His yellow eyes were glued to Tenak, realization clear on his face. “{Anthe’s brother.}”

“{You know Anthe?}” Tenak didn't hide his excitement. Finally, after Eywa knows how long, someone had seen his sibling. Almost frantically, Tenak began searching the pockets of his pouch, pulling out the polaroid he had saved of the two of them. He practically shoved the picture into Neteyams hands, his own still shaking, though whether it was from excitement or the cold could be anyone's guess. 

It was an old photo, taken months before TAP fell apart. Anthe and Tenak sat together on a bench, both decked out in their gear. Anthe leaned into Tenak’s shoulder, grinning at him while he laughed at a stupid joke they had made. 

“{You know them?}” Tenak repeated, watching Neteyam’s face with a foolish amount of hope in his heart. The younger man nodded sadly, but there was still a mirror of Tenak’s hope staring back at him.

“{They stayed with us, before we came here.}” Jake said, though he was looking more concernedly at his son and not Tenak. Neteyam was still looking at the polaroid in his hands, his fingers tracing over the echo of Anthe's face. Tenak didn’t know a lot about romantic love, he was only  really starting to figure that out for himself recently, but he thought that the look on the face of the young man before him might have been it.

“{They mentioned you.}” Neteyam said, finally looking back up at Tenak. “{They were looking for you.}” 

“{Of course they did.}” Tenak let out a wry sounding chuckle. “{And, they went in completely the wrong direction and ended up across the world. But, they aren’t with you anymore?}” There was a long silence as the Sully’s all exchanged glances, and Tenaks heart began to sink.

“{What happened?}” He asked softly.

“{They were taken by the RDA with our brother Spider.}” The older girl answered, holding gently onto Neteyams arm. “{We haven’t seen or heard from them in months.}” 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Neteyam’s mind was going a hundred miles an hour trying to process everything. He had come home later than he intended, having gone out fishing with Rotxo earlier in the day, to see Lo’ak getting scolded yet again. That had been par for the course in the Sully household, the surprising bit has been the strange man passed out in the middle of their marui. It took him a minute to recognize Tenak from Anthe’s description, tired green eyes and choppy short hair, the hint of old scars peeking from beneath his armor. He was much older than Neteyam had imagined too, Anthe had described Tenak as only four or so years older than them, but he looked closer to ten. Then again, Anthe said he may have escaped cryosleep some years before they had, so it made some sense that he would look older. Still, it had to be him, only confirmed by the man's reaction to the mention of Anthe’s name. 

And then there was the photo. The grin on Anthe’s face captured in such clarity, it felt like a punch to the chest. It had been a rare blessing to see Anthe relaxed enough to smile like that before, usually only when Neteyam had been alone with them, where any other time there had always been an undercurrent of sadness or strain. Here there was none of that, just joy despite the circumstance the photo had been taken under. Eywa, did he miss them. Months of buried emotions bubbled to the surface. No matter how long it had been since he had last seen Anthe, he still harbored those unspoken feelings.

“{I heard there were RDA ships spotted in the area. Is that true?}” Tenak’s serious tone pulled Neteyam back to the conversation. Where the older man had looked hopeful just a moment ago, he suddenly seemed much more stern and rigid, every bit a warrior preparing for battle. 

“{Not here.}” Neteyams father shook his head. “{Look, I get where you're coming from, but I can’t let you risk my families safety.}”

“{And I don’t plan on it. I just need to find Anthe. With any luck I might find your other son too.}” Tenak said, already beginning to collect his belongings.

“{Thank you for saving me.}” He nodded to Lo’ak, before starting to push past to the exit of the marui. 

“{Wait!}” Kiri said, stepping into the man's path and dragging Neteyam with her. “{You almost drowned because you were too exhausted to stay upright! At least take the night to rest, you're no use to anyone if you're dead.}”

“{I don’t want to impose on your family any more than I already have.}” Neteyam’s parents were looking at each other, exchanging glances in silent conversation.

“{No, Kiri is right.}” Jake sighed finally. “{Stay with us for the night, at least.}”

With some convincing, it was agreed that Tenak would stay for the night, but be off come morning. He would not mention ever meeting the Sully’s if asked or interrogated. The rest of the evening was filled with all of Neteyam’s siblings questioning Tenak about every aspect of the man's life. Surprisingly enough, he answered, much more open than Anthe had ever been to the wider group of them. He talked about the years spent at TAP, his other surviving sister Kala, and where they had settled out West. How they were working to aid the Na’vi resistance and clans there. Tuk and Lo’ak especially, seemed engrossed in the man's stories, still pesting him well past their curfew. For the most part, Neteyam had stayed quiet, still holding onto the old polaroid photograph. No one tried to take it from him, so it stayed in his hands as he sat listening to Tenak’s stories. It wasn’t until after Neteyam’s siblings had all gone to bed, that the man went to speak with Neteyam himself.

“{You were close with them.}” Was all he said, a statement rather than a question. Neteyam was sitting on the walkway in front of his family's home, feet dangling over the water. Tenak sat himself down beside him, his armor discarded on a sleeping mat inside, leaving his torso bare. Even in the dark, Neteyam could clearly see the scars that ran across Tenak’s back and chest, distinct claw marks from an old viper wolf attack. There were other scars too, newer ones, bullet wounds creating starbursts of scar tissue across the man’s body. 

“{Yes.}” Neteyam said, not entirely sure what else to say. 

“{Good. I was worried they’d be out here all on their own.}” Tenak smiled, leaning back on his hands. 

“{You should have this back.}” Neteyam said, holding the photo back out for the man to take. 

“{Keep it.}” Tenak shook his head. “{Kala has other pictures back home. I just grabbed that one because it's the most recent.}” 

“{Then, at least take your knife back.}” Neteyam said, swapping the photo for the combat knife. “{This is yours, right?}” Tenak blinked, leaning forward as Neteyam passed him the knife.

“{Yeah… damn I thought I’d lost it.}” A smile creeped across Tenak’s face as he flipped the knife in his hand.

“{Anthe said they found it when they woke up, and then dropped it when they were taken. I’ve had it ever since.}” Neteyam offered. He didn’t really want to part with it, the knife had become his own sort of comfort in the past months, but it didn’t belong to him.

“{Thank you.}” Tenak said, sliding the knife into his belt. For a while the two of them just sat there, listening to the quiet rhythm of the ocean waves below.

“{You know,}” Tenak said, breaking the silence. “{I realize I wasn’t there, but if it means anything, I doubt Anthe actually wanted to leave. They probably stayed with you as long as they did because they didn’t want to leave.}”

“{They said they didn’t belong with us.}” Neteyam’s chest ached from the memory. 

“{Yeah… I felt that for a while after getting out too. You get over it eventually, after a lot of work and help from other people. But it's hard. I had Kala with me. Sounds like Anthe didn’t have anyone until they found you. Being in your own head that long, it fucks you up a little bit. It’s hard to believe something is true when you’ve been telling yourself it's a lie for so long.}” Neteyam just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“{When I find them, we’ll come back here. You two can talk it out then.}” Tenak patted Neteyam’s back as he stood, turning back towards the marui and leaving Neteyam alone in the cool night air.

[definitelynotshouting]

hellooooo!!! tis i, bug anon. i have been VERY MUCH enjoying the hunger au snippets (very late comment ik, but they were wonderful little pick me ups whenever i saw them :))!! ALSO, glad to hear your editing is going well!! idk abt you, but editing is the HARDEST bit of writing stuff for me (so im glad its going well!!). if theres any worldbuilding you've wanted to share but nobody has asked about it yet, feel free to lay it on me! (or dont! your choice!) hope your cat is doing well also, i love him <3

-🐛

I have a few things i want to eventually make posts about, but my brain is admittedly a little boiled right now so they'll probably have to wait a little longer before i can write them out coherently 😂😂😂😂 UHHH SMALL TIDBITS SMALL TIDBITS..... OH OKAY OKAY so im trying to cook up more aspects of Watcher culture and i think. They use entire blocks as little beads for jewelry. Its very common for a Watcher to decorate themselves with jewelry that's made from an all-time favorite block. Imagine if these worms had necklaces and one of them was made from magenta glazed terracotta /silly<3

The editing is for sure difficult esp bc i am being extremely nitpicky with this one rn 😭😭😭😭 we're at whats hopefully the last three chapters of Arc 1 and i have very particular ideas for how i want them written so they hit JUST right. AAAA thank you so much for the encouragement!!!! Im really happy you like the snippets ive sent so far :D

ALSO YES Anarchy is doing great he scratched and wailed at my door this afternoon until i let him in so he could cuddle on my lap for a solid half hour🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 sweetest boy on the earth here is a recent picture of him that has to be a top contender for second best Anarchy pic of all time:

[highladyelenna]

hey! im what some would consider a "gwynriel" but ive seen sm hate on ur account for liking elriel when u literally tag pro gwyneth too! genuinely its like people assume that bc ur an elriel that ur being mean to her :( its sad to see especially since it is ultimately its just a book. having hyperfixations and being SUPER emotionally invested is valid but real people fighting to this extent over fictional characters is crazy 😂

i really love reading your takes even if i dont agree because your theories make sense! and seeing a version of elain who embraced the night court would be so so so so cool. but i dont think she will since sjms introduced gwyn (part of me is a lil disappointed she didn't do that with elain, but im hoping she'll write something cool like that for us in the future)

i just want all of these characters to end up with as peaceful of an ending as possible, including lucien, tamlin, and eris. i think beron and hybern poisoned sm of prythian over the years that everyone deserves at least a chance to redeem themselves after amarantha. but i think elain's book will handle koschei for sure, shes ready to do more and i wanna see what shes gonna do to him 👀

Hiiii, thank you sm for the kind words🖤

I try my best to always put “this is just my opinion” or “this is just a rant” I understand not everyone’s going to agree with me and that’s okay, i don’t mind. But, yes, to respond to my posts with hate is wild. Like I’m always up for a friendly discussion but if you’re gonna attack me then i won’t stand for it.

One thing about me that I try to work on is being the bigger person and not responding to comments that are coming at me. I’m just really defensive, but something I’m working on.

I’m glad you as a “gwynriel” can see that I have no hate for Gwyn. I actually love her and think she deserves better than what it seems she’s been getting right now.

Yes, I do prefer Elriel simply because I love a forbidden love trope. And I’d love to see the mating bonds be explored more in terms of rejection. Do I wish Lucien any ill? No, I actually hope he finds someone. If Elriel does happen. I want him happy! I also want Gwyn happy. If Elucien happens, I want Azriel to be happy!

I’ve stated in comments before, but it always seems to go unnoticed, but i’m pro-elain’s choice.

If she chooses Lucien, yay. If she chooses Az, yay. If she chooses neither and enjoys figuring out her fae life alone? YAY.

I’ll be happy either way!

As for Gwyn, I just want her to be happy. She is a sweet happy bubbly person who loves with her whole heart and what SJM has written so far is only setting her up for heartbreak and it’s very sad to me bc she’s the least deserving of it. I actually really hope we get to see more of Gwyn’s family history! I want to know her parents. I want to know how she came to live in the night court.

And I agree I’m a sucker for a happy ending and if we get to see all these characters happy i will be here for it!!!

There are certain characters I really don’t care for, yet! But seeing more of their background is always fun! I love seeing characters go from sidelines to a fully developed person with a story!🖤

[bonesandthebees]

I only just now figured out how to do the ask thing on here and just remembered you have an account on here so hellooo

I finished reading stars for the first time like yesterday and finished it in like 4-5 days— it’s so good o(-( 💖 My brain is already wanting to do a pmv for it— it may or may not have become a favorite of mine

I wanted to ask though, do you have any descriptions of what the planets roughly look like from afar?

fire!! aaa thank you so much I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! stars is my BABY it's genuinely the best thing I've written I think. no pressure ofc but if you did a pmv I would sob /pos

uhh I can try to provide example images if you want but those will be hard to find, so I'll give descriptions for now and if you need reference pics lemme know!!

(also fire I hope you know you're always welcome to dm me lol)

anyway! description time!

Eldingvegr - the planet is tidally-locked, meaning it doesn't spin. one side is always facing its sun, while the other side is always cast in darkness. the sun facing side, Sólsid, is a vast desert so the planet looks mostly brown and yellow on that side. the dark facing side, Nóttsid, is permanently shrouded in darkness, but if someone were to point a giant flashlight at it it would mostly be white and grey because it's largely made up of stone and ice with a few small settlements here and there. most of the planets population lives in the Røkkrring, which is the middle band of the planet where the day and night sides meet. I actually did find a reference picture of what a sunset looks like from space so

in my mind the Røkkrring looks like this from space—a band of varying shades of soft pinks. I know that's a lot going on with one planet lol sorry about that

Zephys IV - this planet is extremely cold, with the entire population living underground because the surface is essentially just ice and a few extremely hardy tundra plants. from afar the planet essentially looks like a ball of white and blue ice.

Kinoko - as a planet Kinoko is heavily forested with a huge variety of mushrooms and trees found on the surface. from afar it looks relatively similar to earth, except it's more land than water and the land is extremely green

Mantle - schlatt's planet is a moon that orbits a gas giant (like Jupiter in our own solar system). the gas giant Mantle orbits is a light orangish color, while Mantle itself looks kind of like Saturn's moon Titan with it's kind of hazy green/blue/orange glow

And then we have the Badlands, which are a trio of planets that all orbit another gas giant that govern together. Of the Badlands we have:

Nona - this one is like Kinoko in that it's a heavily forested planet with lots of green. whereas Kinoko though looks roughly to have 55% land and 45% water, Nona has 70% land and 30% water. It's mostly just masses of extremely green continents with a few splashes of blue lakes here and there.

Decima - in my mind Decima has the same haziness you always see with Saturn's moon Titan, but the color scheme for Decima is entirely yellows. the surface of Decima is uninhabitable due to high temperatures and toxic gas, so all populations live in floating cities in the upper atmosphere

Morta - Morta is a bit of a hell planet that only gem hybrids like Skeppy and demons like Bad can survive on. the planet itself is dark grey and red with no visible water anywhere from afar. there technically is water on the planet, but it's very far below ground in the extensive cave system that runs through the entire thing.

And then the gas giant these three planets orbit is kind of a hazy dark orange/reddish color in my mind but I'm not super picky about it

okay I that's it! I hope that helps!

[speremint]

Hey im sure u probably get this a lot hahah but I had to reach out as ive just binged B&R and cannot express how important and comforting this story is to me, it literally makes me want to sit u down for my life story so u understand just how personal the entirety of it feels and how tightly I’m holding it to my heart. This is going to be a story I will reread forever, in all honesty it’s completely captivated me atm as I’ve never experienced a story that I connect with so deeply and so powerfully on quite possibly Every Level as I have with this one. It genuinely feels like this was a story written just for me. Even hearing your story as the author via what you shared during your last Q+A was mind boggling just due to the things we have in common and I wish in a safer more idealistic world I could have the opportunity to pick your brain over coffee or show you just how much i feel your story reflects my life and soul as its been growing so far. I apologize if this message comes off as a little odd or concerning I just couldn’t help myself and wanted to share if nothing else how special your story is to me, and how thankful I am for you sharing it as well as the professor you spited with the best intentions all those years ago. So on that note I will finish my rambling with a simple thank you for sharing your story and I am beyond excited to have made it in time to experience the third season with the other people who love this story too 💙💚

I've been debating how to answer this just cause i'm not really good with words, but thank you so much. It's always so humbling when someone tells me they are able to connect with BnR in any way, so this message was wonderful to read! I'm glad you've enjoyed my series so much, and yes, I hope S3 will be a satisfying conclusion ❤️❤️

[autisticblueteam]

Appears from the ether again, after months of only being present enough to fill my queue up, with some WIP snippets from the gen:LOCK re-write I mentioned before...

And also finally adressing these tags lmao, sorry @thesouppond I realise these are like 3 months old.

#FUCK IM JUST SEEING THIS NOW???#FUCK YEAH 2024 SEASON OF EVERYONE GETS TO REWRITE GENLOCK CAUSE FUCK S2#Ahem anyway hi genlock moot :)))#I love your writing btw! Ive read your existing GL fics theyre great!#at this point if someone can give me a GL fic i havent already met I will forever be indebted to you i am DYING for GL content

We're really out here trying our best to do better by GL than HBO did huh!! I've been loving Reloaded, it was so nice to see someone else pop up in the gL tag after it was comparatively dead for so long. I've been working on my re-write since just after s2 came out and it was lonely in there for a while there lmao.

So I'm glad you enjoyed the couple of fics I've already done! I'm re-using parts of one of them for the actual re-write since I'm going for the 'keep the basic bones of s2 but aim to fix the execution into something less shit/re-work the worst bits' and I didn't want to write that first nemesis fight over again from total scratch lmao...

I want to finish writing all of the re-write before I post it in full, but that does mean it's taking forever whoops.

I'm still not past the introduction of Sinclair as his portion is so involved and I keep getting distracted by other projects/hobbies, but I did finally get to a point where my take on Sinclair is actually fun to write! I'm keeping his boyfriend because I did at least like that Sinclair was made canonically queer and they're actually cute when I'm just doing my own thing.

So since I feel like posting some WIP bits, here's my favourite Chris/Sinclair stuff I've done so far.

“YEAH! Take that you fucked up tin can!” Sinclair winced. The shout was like an ice pick being driven into his skull, but it was also what finally drove him to lift his head. There ahead of him, wielding a large piece of debris in one hand, was a heavyset Asian man dressed in torn clothes and covered in grime. He reared back, and for a split second Sinclair thought that projectile was for him, until he heard an impact, and the last of the humming died. The man brushed off his hands, pride written on every feature, and in that moment he was the most beautiful thing Sinclair had ever seen. “Coast’s clear!” the stranger called behind him. There was movement, but Sinclair didn’t care to look, his attention caught by the man’s approach. “And we’ve got a live one.” Sinclair’s throat was so dry he broke down coughing twice, in the time it took the stranger to kneel in front of him. “I-I’m not Union. I-I know— with the uniform, and the—” Another violent burst of coughing cut him off. The stranger handed him a canteen and a crooked smile. “Yeah, no shit. You’ve got way too much emotion on your face to be even a defector,” he said, and if Sinclair wasn’t so busy chugging the offered water, he might have mustered a laugh. “That, plus, the lack of helmet, the collapsing, and the drone getting ready to turn you into a novelty cheese grater kinda gave it away.” “Christ, I could kiss you right now,” Sinclair blurted and then regretted in quick succession. Fuck. He’d been in near solitary too long, his filter had worn away to nothing and he was making a damn fool of himself in front of the first sane people he’d seen in weeks. Except the stranger just… laughed, good-naturedly. “Close, the name’s Chris, not Christ. And I’d say buy me dinner first, but it’s a bit hard out here.”

AND then a little later...

“What about the refugee railroads?” Chris lowered his beer bottle and wiped his mouth. “Too far.” “Vanguard safe crossings?” “Too far.” “The— fucking Canadian border?” Chris laughed, “Too far. Further than either of the other things. Jesus, dude. You sure you haven’t got a concussion?” “Mostly,” Sinclair said, rubbing his face with his intact hand. “I just— you’re going to die if you stay here. A drone only has to get lucky once.” “And if we go deeper in, we’ll only die faster,” Chris said with a simple shrug. “We already have to pack up and move every few weeks when the line moves. And every time, the Polity border gets a little bit further away. Believe me, man, I want nothing more than to get outta here, but it’s just not happening.” “What if I helped?” The offer fell out before he’d consciously decided to make it, but Sinclair stood by it. Even when Chris looked at him dubiously. “No offence, dude, but you’re just one guy. And two days ago you could barely stand.” “And now I’m fine,” Sinclair insisted. “I’m a soldier. I was decorated for valour after I got my squad out of a run-in with the Union that should’ve killed us all. I was the only one who could even still hold a gun. I swear, I could get you somewhere safe. Are you really telling me you’d rather keep sitting around waiting to die than take a risk?” Chris’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t answer immediately, taking another swig from his scratched up bottle of beer. Sinclair sighed. “Look. I need to get to a Vanguard base one way or another. I don’t want to leave you guys behind if I don’t have to. I owe you my life. And maybe dinner.” Chris almost choked on his drink. “Wow,” he laughed, clearing his throat, “you sure pick your moments, huh?” Sinclair shrugged. “Figure if you’re not actually into it I’ll just blame the concussion.” “That you don’t have.” “Exactly.” Chris rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Smooth. Smooth operator. Alright, alright, fine, we’ll talk to the others in the morning. It might be a tougher sell when they’re not the ones getting dinner with a hot soldier out of it, but hey, guess we’ll see.” “Are you looking past the just-got-done-being-tortured chic, here, or is that part of the charm?” “Are you kidding? There’s a whole genre focused on how hot soldier guys look after they’ve been through hell.” “Not sure that’s the intended takeaway of action movies.” “Well,” Chris shrugged, starting to pick at a can of food, “it was definitely my takeaway.” Sinclair laughed. Honest-to-god laughed, in a way he was surprised he was even capable of after the last few weeks. The normality of the moment was like a balm on all the aching parts of him, mental and physical alike. For a moment he could almost forget that the reason he looked like shit was because he’d just escaped the worst experience of his life. For a moment it felt like the fight was over.

Now I just have to actually get through the remainder of my Sinclair set-up and then I'll be only one chapter away from finishing the first half of the fic... so close and yet so far lmao.

[knickknacksandallthat]

will part 4 start off with jean's pov in france? or the first time he meets kevin? or is it jeremy we're starting with?

i literally cannon wait to read this, ive been dying to know what their thoughts have been for the past three fics

Aww, ty anon!! I'm so glad you've enjoyed the series! I'm super excited to get their thoughts out there as well! It's funny b/c as I've been writing Kev's POV I've literally had to make little notes to myself on what they're thinking or doing at the moment so I could get here. But now I've got a wall of moments and scenes and little bits that I want to incorporate 😅 So...suffice to say it's def a work in progress making it all cohesive.

Getting back to your question though - we are starting with Jean in the Nest. Not quite the first time he meets Kevin but close to that timeframe. I did try searching through that chapter to see if I could give you a snippet, but alas, anon - everything I've written would be kind of spoilery right now. (There are a few surprises I still have hidden up my sleeve, waiting for y'all when you go to read this.) I don't want to bore anyone by repeating content, and there's a lot to delve into on jerejean's side before Kevin's even in the picture so...yeah. I think y'all will enjoy this next installment. It's been a blast writing so far and I can't wait to share it with you. 😁

[literaphobe]

[while speaking i'm pacing the room and walking up the walls and ceiling like a spider] i'm obsessed with the way you so successfully and compellingly create sexual tension. it's truly insane how good you are at creating that dense atmosphere, and i'm just scrolling my phone peeking and reading line by line waiting for the bubble to pop. you've heard of sexual tension you can cut with a knife, now get ready for "sexual tension so palpable that you need a diamond drill to even make a dent." that is tvl to me. you have to have a master's degree in yearning with a concentration in pining to write something half as magnetic as this. your brain is so big. reading this fic is like watching a beyblade battle, watching the two of them spin around each other in rapid circles at mach speed, like you KNOW it's going to end but how messy will the final blow be??

i also really appreciate how the majority of this fic is from adrien's pov! i feel like i don't see a lot of that (in the fic i'm finding anyways), so to find one with it, and one so well written and well characterized at that, is like striking gold. every line has me going "they WOULD fucking say that !" i also love how you make sure to specify that though alya, out of love, pushes marinette out of her comfort zone, she stops it all once she gets the sense that marinette is genuinely uncomfy. bc they r besties!!! and alya cares about marinette more than proving that she knows what's best for her!!

im showering you in flowers and giving u the big bouquet cn gave lb except you can keep all the flowers mwah!!!!!!!

anon I need you to know… this ask blew me away in ways that are barely comprehensible like just WOW. WOW!!!!!! thank you so much and also you have SUCH a way with words this is SUCH high praise but it’s also being delivered so eloquently and I am just SO CHARMED

thank you thank you THANK YOU so much for real. ive reread this ask multiple times and I know i will continue to do so in the future, along with all the amazing anons ive been getting recently 🥺🥺🥺

it’s genuinely SO nice and heart wrenching to know that all the love and yearning and tension and emotions and complicated feelings I put into tvl can be felt this palpably… thank you for understanding and FEELING and seeing my vision… gives u a diamond ring

also HEHEHE im so glad ur enjoying the adrien pov!! for tvl i just felt like it was apt and also i like the adrichat pov ^_^ its fun and cozy and silly! also functionally tvl!maribug has far more secrets and Knows more so having the audience spend more time w adrichat makes it easier to maintain the suspense HEHEHEHEH also im so glad u are enjoying the characterization!!!!! and also tvl alya’s nuance. i wanted to make it very clear that while she’s been acting up and scheming and unwinding -> because she’s being kept in the dark about a bunch of stuff too!! and as we know it DRIVES HER INSANE when marinette keeps secrets from her… still. i wanted to show that when push comes to shove she’s able to take a step back and protect marinette…

[rpfisfine]

do you hate miles?🤨

i was wondering when someone would send me an ask like this yeah i dont like him to be honest. i know ppl on here have largely moved on from the fateful 2016 interview and it has been discussed to death and yeah he immediately said he was joking etc etc but i dont think its weird to think you shouldnt have to feel pressured to like completely forgive and forget and absolve the sins of a male musician saying something that made a female reporter feel unsafe or objectified or 'caught in an increasingly distressing situation' or act like its some sort of unheard of and unimaginable offense that has never happened before in the history of music interviews and one someone’s favorite musician who can do no wrong in their eyes could definitely never get caught up in (esp given how gross in general the music industry is towards women). OR even go so far to say the reporter did it all for attention i cant believe this is even a discussion that has ever been had in any form ever like genuinely nothing makes me angrier than ppl who literally turn into blatant sexists whenever their favorite white guy's reputation is even mildly put at risk ive literally seen one person on here say the whole interview was made up and exaggerated and that she just wanted to 'join the me too movement' which is like Okay man i think you might just not have any respect for women in real life maybe. even watered down and not as extreme its a take thats more prevalent on am tumblr than i thought or previously imagined and i hate how bad it makes the fandom look like i trust that everyone on here is a reasonably intelligent and empathetic human being who has at least a basic tumblr education on the fact that victim blaming is bad so we dont rly need to turn around and immediately go 'she just misunderstood what he was saying' or 'she just didnt get his sense of humor' like Alright

i hope im articulating all this reasonably well like i think its literally fine that ppl have accepted his apology and moved on and are able to enjoy him as an artist and/or as a person too thats awesome and im happy for the ppl that i follow that have this kind of relationship with him. even if it wasnt for the interview thing he stil wouldnt be for me i used to be a pretty big fan of his music when i was younger but nowadays since ive found different music i dont rly pay any attention to him. im glad he was able to spark alex creatively but thats as far as my enjoyment goes of him to be yonest

also ive just realized now that all this makes me look kind of contrived given the fact that ive written milex before and i dont rly have like an impenetrable explanation i literally started writing for jamex around the time the car album came out bc i found out all my fav jamex fics had gotten deleted by their author so i wanted to fill the void and then one day i was like wait am i good enough yet to write a functional milex fic (plus i was hoping to get more ppl to notice my writing and milex offers a pretty easy way to do that) so then i wrote 2 and i was like ok i am cool. i dont intend to write another fic for them

hope this makes sense i probably forgor to say like 10 other things i wanted to say but thats okay

[teabutmakeitazure]

homewrecker made me cry omg. Ive never seen chrollo cry in a fic before and you wrote it so so so well.

I wanted to write a scene where darling, in a perfectly healthy relationship with Chrollo, accuses him of cheating because of things that he's been doing and Chrollo goes mind broken over it because of the sheer irony. I didn't make the entire fic about it, just that one scene to show that the relationship is healthy, thriving, and perfect (even though elaborating on that scene would've been funny lol).

It's the fact that he knows he enjoys this life where he will never be completely at home due to his lifestyle that gets me. The frequent questions of 'why did I let this get so far?' and 'what am I even gaining from this?' aren't addressed in this but a little prequel-esque thingy I've written for Homewrecker :D

Glad I could make little nihilistic crime lord cry for once. Not glad about you crying though anon :(

[this-acuteneurosis]

Okay, 2 things I really, really love about your writing and DLB (be prepared for praise)

1. Your commentary and meta on the Force. Reading through your post on how western (Christianity) theology ruined the prequels— yes! I have been saying this for years but I never knew how to put it in words or explain why the force felt so different in the PT vs the OT, and why I always preferred the force in the OT more than the PT (you hit the nail on the head). And I appreciate that this is the route you’ve taken in your writing, and I have to say since I’m writing my own SW fic I have been reading through that post and applying it to how I write about the force in my own story, and looking at things with a more critical eye and being mindful of what the force is and how it does/doesn’t work.

2. Your characterization of Anakin. I think yours is the best characterization of him I’ve ever read in a fic (I mean it). When I read DLB, I feel like I’m actually reading an Anakin from the PT. I think when it comes to a lot of fics about Anakin, I think authors tend to write him more like he is in the TCW, which is totally fine (I love the TCW) but DLB is just refreshing to me, and I know it’s because you’re sticking mostly to the movies with added bits from the TCW. For me, TCW Anakin feels a lot different from PT Anakin (sometimes it feels like they’re two different people), and Ive always preferred the Anakin in the movies (which is why I LOVE DLB). And it’s not just Anakin, but all of the characters are just written extremely well and true to their portrayals in the movies: shmi, padme, obi-wan, the list goes on.

3. (I know I only said 2, but I feel like being a Rebel). I think you’re one of the first authors of a SW time travel to bring up the very poignant point that just because it’s a time travel fic does not mean that we’re owed a big reveal. I mean, honestly, if I was Leia and I was dropped into that situation, I would do the exact same thing. My mouth would be wired shut, you’d have to tickle/torture me to get that out of me. Leia doesn’t owe anyone that part of herself and it’s not super relevant either, so why bring it up just to bring it up. If it does end up being relevant to the plot then I would very much enjoy a reveal, but you’re such a good writer that no matter where the cards fall I know I will not be disappointed either way— I am all here for how you write it. But the way you’ve written so far feels realistic and authentic to how a real person would react in that situation

I’ll end it here, but yeah! I appreciate you and DLB and I look forward to seeing where you take things.

I am blushing like crazy, you're so kind.

1) I know my rejection of an even semi-sentient Force isn't popular and doesn't mesh with current canon, but I prefer and stand by it. I'm glad that it resonates with someone else!

2) I agree that Anakin characterization is So Hard because he's not really consistent between the OT, PT, and TCW. I find my interpretation strongly influenced by TPM Anakin specifically (another Anakin!). That bright, kind little boy who was too smart and too talented for his own good! I love him and I want to protect him!

3) Be a Rebel! :) The "reveal" issue is something I think about a lot. I get lots of comments--ever increasing as the story goes on and the silence holds--about how excited or anxious people are for a reveal. What they think people's reactions will be. Why it must happen at some point. I can understand the underlying tension issue, and how people are probably on the edge of their seat. But I agree with you anon, Leia doesn't owe her past to anyone. There have been, are, and will be consequences to her silence. If and when she chooses to break it, it will be a Big Deal for whoever she trusts with the truth.

But for now, get comfy folks. Leia isn't going to break so easily.

[loveundrwrld]

hi again, do you have any recommendations or media for yandere x reader stories that you enjoy?

i want to mention also that i really really like how you’ve written your stories so far, it’s drawn me in and i’ve read all of them. the plot twist ending for the ex bully yan story is really good, and leaving it on a cliff hanger gives me no closure but lets me imagine and question wth is reader going to do in that predicament. it’s very fun, ok ty ❤️.

hello again to you too! :D

aaaa i'm so glad to hear you liked the twist!! i'm very glad, i was a little concerned it may have been too confusing lol. and i appreciate what you said about the cliffhanger- it sounds like ive worked to convey the feeling that i wanted to in my writing with that oneshot, which is always nice to hear. ty for the kind words, this really made my day!

but also, for the reccs, i think i have some good ones for you lined up!

for the yandere x reader writers on this site, i really like @shooting-love-arrows and @parasytte - both blogs are on hiatus iirc but still reccomend going through their master lists and tags!! very fun reads.

i also like @yandereworlds as the mods there includes art with their headcanons, which is a really nice touch. and @darling--core has some fantastic yans, so be sure to check them out as well!

if you’d like a yandere fix, i’ve also put two media reccomendations for good media with yandere characters under the cut ^_^

if you’d like to see a male yandere- i recommend the manga welcome to the yandere cafe! it's a funny manga with one legit yandere, and a few "faux" yanderes (at least, that was the case the last time i checked the updates, lol.) the concept is it's a cafe where the waiters act like yanderes (kind of like how in maid cafes, they act like maids- it's for the sake of the customer.) it's cute, the MC is a yandere fan so there is some fun discussion of the trope. i believe there are probably a lot of chapters untranslated though, sadly :( so it’s a bit of a short read!

and, if you’re in the mood for a female yandere(s), i also recently got caught up with the manga gachikoi nenchakujuu- which is a manga about super fans who get obsessed and fall in love with streamers. basically, due to the concept there are a lot of yanderes. the manga follows a group of streamers (3 guys) and the different fans that obsess over them, which each arc covering a different streamer. it's a psychological drama basically, very fun, and sometimes very disturbing (in a good way!)

oh also the cover of it has two men on the website that i linked to read it- it’s a little misleading, you don’t see the white haired guy at all until the later chapters lol.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

heeyy! :)

im new to your blog and ive just read aim for the heart! and all i can say is ive never ever cried so much over a relationship between two fictional characters😭 i know the ending is super happy and all but them being together is literally so beautiful it makes me cry😔 (im definitely not on the verge of crying writing this ask) and i love both jk and oc so so so sooooo much (they are definitely among my favorite jks and ocs ive read so far) 🥹🥹 you literally write so well and im so happy i found you💜

also, i just wanted to say that sadly i cant open the third drabble (after the wedding?) but im not sure if its a problem on my side😭 it just says ‘post not found’ :(

anyways, cant wait to read more of your fics!! im sure they are just as amazing🥰

This is an older ask and I'm just now answering it, I am so sorry for that!! Hopefully you see this answer 🙏🏻❤️

Thank you so so much for reading AFTH and for loving it as much as I do! I always say it means the most to me when people love the characters on a certain level, and that's still true to this day. A story can be good, but if I can write characters that grow and change and people love them and their interactions? Well that just hits on a different scale 🌸💗🌸💗

Explanation on honeymoon drabble below the cut!

As for the drabble, it ought to be working now. Let me confess something to y'all:

I did private it. I was having major doubts about it; whether it was written well enough, whether I had put more 'mature' material in it than I felt comfortable with (ik its nothing compared to some works but im also a different person with different feelings and boundaries). I always say to each their own, write what you write and I will write what I write. I also have never included mature works for reasons more than just that I don't write it; I wanted to reach hearts without that, to create a love story that didn't need to have that for it to be genuine and enjoyed. Nothing at ALL against writers that focus on that or the act of sex itself (it was a gift!) that's not what I'm saying.

I just mean I wanted to take a different route 🤷🏻‍♀️

So yeah, I was very unsure about that post, felt a bit like I had redrawn my boundary lines and didn't feel the best. Ended up unprivating it today because I felt bad that others didn't get to continue to read up on the material that was provided to the people before them.

But anyway enough on that!! All is well!!

Thank you so much for your kind words ❤️ I am so so glad that you found my blog and that you're here 😍❣️

ILY 💃🏻

-chip